"sequester" poems
As mother nature's
Punitive measure
Against a society
In maintaining
The statuesque
That doesn't bother,
Our rivers
Had become subject
To a water thirst,
To the extent
Of projecting
Rocky ribs
Terrifyingly protruded out
For easy count!
But now thanks to
The all-out, terrace making
And reafforestation effort
Of each catchment
Farmers have made a point
And also to the afforestation
Move of the government
Rivers aside from quenching
Their insatiable thirst
Have resumed
To brim over
With floods
Drinking water
To their hearts' content.
Our forests once stripped of
Their wooded cover
Have started, fast, to recover
From afar they are seen
Robed eye-catching green
From a fry-pan sky
Allowing a shelter
Also busy
Carbon to sequester.
Wild animals
That migrated
Have preferred
Back their way to find.
Now farmers don't have
Deep to dig
To sink a water well
Or find a nearby spring.
Birds are heard chirruping
Be it winter, summer or spring,
While Brooks bubbling.
Buzzing and hovering
From this to that flower
Bees are producing
Organic honey by the hour.
Promising a bumper harvest
Farmer's plots have
Fortunately continued
To resuscitate!
Those leaving
Their denuded abode behind
Away, who preferred
To stay
'We will return back
home soon! '
Is what
They say.
Happily enough
Mother nature
Affords us a second chance
Imbued with
Environment stewardship
If we are willing to mend
Our wrong 'Feast today
famine tomorrow! ' stance.
To dispel the spectre
Of climate change
And systematically face
The global challenge
True to the adage
'We have either to
swim together
or sink together! '
Hence in fighting the challenge
Or adapting to the change
Back scratching,
We have to be on the same page.
Indeed, irrigation must
Not slip our mind
For erratic rainfall
A lasting solution
If we must find.//
Once a famous Ethiopian Poet Pro.Debebe Seifu Who had passed away had penned down a picturesque poem lamenting the land degradation, deforestation and change of climate the country was suffering.The bad scenario seemed unrecoverable.Now a days Ethiopia is reversing that sad episode.I have therefore to write a poem on this
#change #trees #erosion #climate #deforestation #enviroment #degeradation #desertification
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
amidst Jeffersonian opulence
the Prez broke bread with his
GOP poker face friends
to solve government gridlock
and sequester predicament trends
citizens of the republic
hopeful for nonsense to cease
sat at the table asking
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
Obama perused the wine list
boldly choosing a luscious Merlot
senators ordered the finest hors d'oeuvres
the guests were all aglow
numerous delectable dishes
were liberally splayed on the table
revelers sipped flowing vintages
wine a surefire icebreaker
sparkling crystal Lennox flutes
tinkled with convivial release
while America’s disenfranchised
voices ask
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
chutney meat, curried hens and
sweet walnut rainbow trout
the table a horn a plenty
the guests gorged on fine cuisine
a blessed nations bounty
the feast consumed
the Senators sated
said it was some
of the finest ever served
but the taxpayers only
got a peak of the banquet
a whiff of senators nerve
and asked
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
the dessert cart was rolled in
with custards, cakes, creme brulee
cordials, cognac and VSOP tastes
rounded out the wholesome feast
when the check was presented
for payment all guests headed
for the door with haste
they told the waiter the bill of fare
was covered
by the guy asking...
“would you pass
the biscuits please?”
Music Selection:
Andre Williams:
Pass The Biscuits Please
jbm
Oakland
3/7/13
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC
Oh this feeling, the way you make me feel
is naught but solid and true. Ever present,
and always makes me feel slightly delusional,
it sometimes falters, but is widely consistent.
Theres a shift in the weather, a difference in the air,
its something of a sweeter aroma, delightful to the senses.
Its calming, giving rise to these joyful fantasies, but they are
sometimes taken to far, so I keep them penned up behind fences.
There are adjectives plenty to describe you,
and many qualities can be ascribed to your name.
For your heart is golden, your words wise, your view
on life is positive and difficult to thoroughly maintain.
Your profound adoration for puppy, child, and rose
Is much to blame for my insane admiration of you.
Theres something about your personality that grows
increasingly in such favour of something within you thats true.
Ay, yes, Its true, theres something wonderful about you,
It sees me through the deepest swells when I am blue.
I could sit in your presence and be grieved by sorrowful news,
and still you'd bring me comfort, and remedy my bout of the blues.
Why do you hide away what beauty you possess,
don't flaunt it true, but please don't sequester it.
Make proud your heart in your beauty, as it pleases
the eye, and makes glad the soul who cherishes it.
I find myself laid low to the ground,
when your hand lowered extends out toward me.
I find myself happy and in the presence of love found
and in my arms, is the person who sees me free.
There is something in me that wants me to scream
nothing of pain and agony, but in joy and profound happiness.
For there is something in my life that whilst it may seem
temporary, is the permanent source of so much joyfulness.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
Welcome my brother said one snowflake to another
Let us paint the land with diamonds of white
Let us put crisp in the air and blanket despair
And brighten the hills with delight
Welcome my brother said one snowflake to the other
Let us widen the smiles of children enthralled
And kindle the aged with their youth
Let us vault from the clouds with a magical shroud
Let us decorate every roof
Welcome my brother said one snowflake to another
Let us dance in the street and stick to the feet
Of those frolicking in the snow
Let us fill up the sky with a brilliant disguise
And sequester the dark from the glow
Welcome my brother said one snowflake to the other
Let us cover the streets with glorious sheets
Until the blackness comes up melting through
This is the end said the snowflake to his friend
And I’m happy to melt here with you.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 6:25 AM UTC
War paint I always found unnecessary:
Gloss for manicured lipstick commercial princesses
Not of my kind.
And though I walk with shield, I am without armour:
Ramparts mere cheekbones,
Bare skin impressionable as snow.
Boot-print,
The mark I hated. My characters:
Frail tree rings, exposed to the chill night air.
Gold inlay frozen solid.
The fairly bound dream factory
Lies purple with melancholy.
It’s the world’s bruise. It colours sudden,
Shadowing the other side of the room
Where it paused, rare moth
Lighted upon my dark reflection,
A Mona Lisa dressed in black
And reminiscent of bobby sox.
Beauty without fanfare.
Stuff of woods: we do not glitter.
We don’t call out.
Our tongues are both dumbstruck bells.
Shy rabbits, we fold within ourselves
And sequester our secret pulp.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
These old doors,
sullen as spinsters.
Wharves, deckhands, the old chopping block:
flights of time misremembered in a
backward gaze.
Toes in water.
Hooks to fish.
The sea salty.
How shall I count the ways...
lost among the waves.
But look, afar, the old man on his boat!
Is he Charon come to point the way to
the seaward lost; or has he come to
sequester memory to some far shore?
(Maybe he's a schmuck with a paddle!)
Seagulls, feathers, the brine:
all groan with this wood.
In this wood was the line
that snatched life from the water
(the fish, the scales—they shine)
and flopped on the deck,
heterocercal.
The evening closes on this vista but
not the charades of time.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Stranger to earth, to her body, to the church. I often wondered how she could remain stoic as her blood licked the grass blades at our feet, the moth falling with her finger, drowning with my grief into the ring of fire. How far can one go, she asked me, to live without participating in the circus, to resist clowns, to not register pain, family, injustice, rain. Look, I said, they endure, the sound, the visuals, the memory – episodic, yes, but they endure – people would not forgive bystander. The moth fell again, shuddering, struggling. And her finger, gushing with golden blood, was still pointing at the priestess, who smiled, and said, you decide, it’s your body. To sequester, draw a line on the snow, better with blood, but tears would suffice too – and so the stranger was repeatedly created and destroyed.
Jun 11, 2021
Jun 11, 2021 at 5:49 AM UTC
Thorns in the hearts of millions and fear in the minds of billions.
Heard across the whispers of machines, spoken to the minds of onlookers.
Entrances carved into the souls of children by myriad opinions.
Young ones engraved with a memory, reared to despise terror as one would hookers.
Advance the agenda. Propaganda distributed; phones, theaters, televisions alight.
Losing our souls to the terror, we huddle in our whining and dining rooms.
Lips loose and battering what we don't understand, they're the terrors! Don't you understand?
Destitute is reason in the fanatics worlds away, yet in our very homes.
Encouraged to make poor our own empathy, as we seek them out.
Solace lost on our tongues we devour them, mercy removed from our bones.
Everyone knows we have to get them first, right? Right. There's no other route.
Right is confused with fear. They've made us just like them. Just like them.
Vie for change! Do it all you want, but you can't change them, not with sinful might...
Entrance them with modernity, educate them, sequester them, it's a farce, a problem.
Aren't we the beasts? Shooting missiles from a, "Wicked City," televisions alight.
Grand mess we've made, hypocrisy ten miles high, sin ten miles deep.
Right. Where were we? Who shot last? Compare past to past, continue the fight.
Already we're planning, where to strike next? Whack the hive, make 'em weep.
Vanishing like shadows in all-encompassing light the terrors disappear.
"'Enraging us again,' coming soon!" the sequel should be good next year.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
Glass in my windows rattled
So furious was the birth.
Once over, peace more
Serene in face of wrath
We had seen.
All who saw regarded
In awe fresh beauty -
Time did stop, and sound.
We saw wonder in newness,
Familiar land transformed
To heaven's purity -
Then set out to to sequester innocence,
Sacrificed to our convenience.
We moved and pushed
Poisoned and cursed,
Rallied weapons to beat it.
So now Snow looks like us
Broken, finally defeated;
Grey, scarred and ugly,
Age taking shares by day,
Life by slow trickles
Ebbing away,
Long since lost of purpose.
Feb 20, 2010
Feb 20, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC
I wonder ivy, ever green
embracing faces no longer seen
were better tribute to love immortal
than fragrant blossoms strewn on soil;
too soon they loose their hues, perfumes,
becoming dust like those they'd honor,
when life's the thing we thought was cherished -
then remind us only flesh will perish
but love attaches to the stars
and lives forever in our hearts
so never work to mark my path
with stones nor earth, for they will pass,
erode of tears and sighs of heaven
that earth should suffer my disruption,
her milk I’d stolen might sequester
locked in darkness forever from her
rather, vest me in some far off light
that twinkles in the dark of night,
thy wistful eyes to visit there
and meet my love’s returning stare
Oct 16, 2010
Oct 16, 2010 at 7:29 PM UTC
21st Century contraption of a mind , snatched from birth , taught how to "Walk the Line , " Hammered into conformity , Play Doh brains pressed in a mold , dressed , plopped on a conveyor , not one piece out of place ..
Our State cores a whole , pours a mandatory twelve years of robot ideology between our ears , who we should emulate , who we should fear
.. Fed factory Farm swill , sequester our imaginations , zero tolerance , shot full of Ritalin ...
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
November rolled down I-90
into this town
with the year's first snow and wind
I closed my mouth
into a fading highway line:
straight, short, horizontal
as the grey stains shade its white.
It's Wednesday night
and the tunes inside my car
underline a quiet month
strained through these bars
"What's the score?" say apartment walls
empty seats tied with unreturned phone calls
It stood that way last I took the tally
on shivering walks' shortcuts through alleys
This is just another rut
walked into these roads
where my unabashed feet
and my aching toes
can save my face some embarrassment
when the bent skies straighten out this cracking pavement
Just a little while later,
look back to the Sun,
gonna warm my face in the Winter dawn
and shake off these somber streetsalt thoughts
caught
my friends on the rebound,
we'll remember now
caught
my friends on the rebound,
we'll remember now
I'll be fine again
come February.
Line my stupid fears up,
shade their eyes.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
The President assessed the scene
and gave a terse command.
His caddy grabbed his putter
and put it in Obama’s hand.
The breeze as not a factor
The air was hot and still.
The hole, a dozen feet away,
blocked by a small windmill.
Barrack needed this putt for par.
to help him tie the score.
Boehner got a hole in one
in the clown face just before.
Obama gave his ball a stroke-
it veered wide, an inch or two.
It’s a pity folks are watching
Or he’d lie about that too.
That he should be reduced to this;
Playing at the “Pirate’s cove.
The sequester is a right wing plot
likely dreamed up by Karl Rove.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
Infest for fest; instead fester.
Rest yourself in steadfast sequester.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
This multiplying illness complexes this weariness
Earieness steers for thou
A three tier system is written
In the hearts of despising old ********
Not soon yet
Not after!!!!
Climaxing evildoer's
Initiate iniquities triangled love affair,
Many go the distance
Whilst the darers
They dare!!!!
Clean slates
Thou wilt not find in a confine of magic fairy tale cells
Im sick
Combusted of all energies
I feeleth that bursting flame
Arising from hell!!!!
Coffee beans
Boil near by one!!!
Some play on open courts
Whilst others believe in freedom
Of pistol range fun!!!
No extinguisher
To put out
The volcanic smoke,
Wiccans
To quick ones
No lighter to spark thine throat!!!!
Pleasures are shamefully no fun here
Even amongst thine own kind
Thou art a diseased display
Of settled bacteria!!!
Hysteria
Enters ones mind
To rid him the pains of this life,
Forget wrong and right!!!!!!
Thou knoweth neither,
Unborn one!!!!!
Thou art a star of creation
A leader of all nations
The moon
The earth
The sun
Captured beauty thou art!!!!
Thou photographic film!!!
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Sequester thee eternal sunshine.
The hummingbird does not speak to me.
Symbolizing a new beginning.
Harmony brings Destiny.
Doing the devil's work is heartless.
He can believe liars to this day.
For the biast lies about me the mediator had to say.
I thought heresay was irrelevant.
Her recommendations to the judge were sent.
I was not chosen.
My parental rights frozen.
Demons in human form in the courtroom posing.
Judge Gerald Jessop retired without remorse.
His senseless verdicts concluded it's course.
Who does he think he is to say
or think how we deserve to be separated this way.
At my side is the only place for Ariel to stay.
To take a child from their mother as a baby & a little girl is not for their best interest.
It was traumatizing enough everytime I had to leave just to work my shift.
The judge & his minions at Madge Bradley Downtown can drink giraffe ****
For what they did to my daughter & I's relationship
The devil horned one of red flesh can escort them with his pitchfork to hell as a trip.
Another sunrise they can skip.
Some evil is so bad that not even fire can destroy it
The natural order of things this way is meant.
The biast liars be ****** & die endless torment.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
We are all demagogues in a world controlled by despots,
A world where we have grown afraid to denude the powerful
And sequester the impoverished under the sheets,
A fear to stick it to the man rather stick with the man.
Although it begins with one life, it ends with countless casualties.
For our definition of what we believe is right, differs from what we believe is good.
The foundation of good, for it is no universal language rather a universal dictum.
With lessons unknown to all, simply comprehended by some.
For only a handful selected by God occupy the hole the devil burned through.
Leaving the delicious gift of persuasion on earth, awaiting the tasting intentions whether good or evil.
Convinced by all with set beliefs while thy axioms remain unknown.
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
The glistening snow sweats off the arms of the woods,
The sun's warmth challenges the breeze,
But the breeze knows how to get under my skin,
The sun can only touch gently on the surface.
And another thing: my mind is at ease,
But it must be arousing to knead an angel in the doughy snow,
Rather than strap on my boots, pack up my book bag,
And to tune out the rest, put on my headphones,
Playing songs to keep me stuck inside my head.
Rather than grinding equations,
Taking notes,
Inspecting writing,
Instead of analyzing one of these,
I'd like to read glowing literature for my heart's sake.
The best days begin and end like this.
These days tranquilize me,
Sequester cortisol from my brain,
And quell thoughts of then,
thoughts of tomorrow, thoughts of today,
thoughts of when, thoughts of who,
thoughts of why, thoughts of how,
thoughts of you.
So since you aren't here to feed my soul,
And I can't read in this city's wretched cold,
I'll tuck myself inside my bed,
And burn my eyes on my phone screen instead.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
Across the reflective fields of Hill Country grass begins to escape its icy enclosure ..Black Angus leave red clay impressions bound for green pastures ..Mourning doves wail their somber retreat as first light exposes the prequel to Heaven .. Blackbirds and smoke from morning bonfires alight , the promise of daylight is scented with Oak and Hickory as fields of cotton appear to ignite . Tin roofs begin to glow , church bells awake villages on the horizon . Golden waves pan Eastern skies , Sycamores sequester abundant sunshine ..Sparrows , Chickadees and Finches gossip without end , Bluejays and Brown thrashers command the fence line once again .
Barbed wire enclosures divide the landscapes , dancing scrub Pines act as reeds , filtering the breeze with the music of natures continuity ..
Blacktop drives ribbon the lonesome acreage , goat herds graze the property frontage . Quarter , Morgan and Appaloosas quietly graze against the backdrop of nineteenth century farm houses .. White silos and red barns , gourd birdhouses , dug wells and smokehouses ..Bantam roosters and hens sift through acorns beneath two hundred year old Water Oaks ..
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
a union is granted a pie
and cleanse their rye
when a tunic can sequester mobs
only cries in these houses pale crumbs
as they succumb to climes in poles
that keep their fry hush in throes
and below the ground frowns peal the town
as ice is temperately bound
whether ponds here roast white supremacy
as rhetoric was xenophobia
and rose from their chaos
now the national street
that sought their limb
and the financier in London
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
Sequester me in your embrace tonight,
Guide me through these troubled skies.
Navigate with me through the stars so bright,
Teach me how it feels to fly.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
in this neo-classic house
with their partition in glass
that her reflexes still shine
in their wilderness again
that drives her tears in craft
with time to sequester their burdens
in this room with mirrors now he tread
through this capillary with imaginary ***
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 8:06 AM UTC
You once sat,
in the palm of my hand
told me love,
was our home to share.
Did I forget?
You once raved,
of my stellar cooking
often looking
where I couldn't see.
Did I forget?
I paced the hospital floor
seeking an end
to the anticipation of doom
you couldn't fight.
Did I forget?
A long breath leaves you
lost in the atmosphere
you die alone
in endless night.
Did I forget!
Did I forget that you made me?
That you toiled for hours in the womb of love
nursing the fractures I had when you found me?!
Did I forget how you taught me symbols of communication
that allowed you to understand me beyond the shallow
shadows that I was so used to receiving as love?
I must have forgotten? My heart must be rotten...
Did I forget the taste of the salt on your lips,
as if you were a boundless sea that would
never drown me, or sequester me from light?
I must have lost my mind, why!
Why can one act unbind the seams
of such a precious gift: the threads
of love and the tome of truth!
When I fell in love again,
I must have forgotten,
because for the first time
in my wandering life
I didn't know you
anymore.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC